


Inheritance and Temptation

by EllenOfOz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Bisexual Castiel (Supernatural), Blow Jobs, Celebrity Dean Winchester, Destiel Harlequin Challenge, Fluff and Smut, Getting to Know Each Other, Hook-Up, Kid Claire Novak, Law Student Sam Winchester, London, Long-Suffering Sam Winchester, M/M, Musician Castiel (Supernatural), Openly Bisexual Dean Winchester, Romance, Safer Sex, Shower Sex, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 16:39:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19816273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllenOfOz/pseuds/EllenOfOz
Summary: London, 2019. Life has been easy for Dean Winchester. His movie star mother moved his family to London a few years ago, and with his good looks, aristocratic connections, and money, he’s never had to work and he’s rarely slept alone. But all that changes when tragedy strikes and Dean inherits his mother's wealth, businesses and charity interests, and all the responsibility that entails. It’s a burden he’s not prepared for and one that he struggles to face at such a difficult time.But his most unexpected challenge is his desire for an enigmatic man who’s recently arrived in England, looking for his family. Shy, beautiful, and musically gifted, he’s an alluring mystery, and Dean’s first encounter with him deepens into a longing to help him however he can. Just who is Castiel Novak? As Dean struggles with his loss, he gains more than he ever expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my story for the Destiel Harlequin Bang for 2019!
> 
> For this bang, the participants all claimed a blurb from a real Harlequin romance, and made it Destiel. I hope I've done the erotic romance genre justice in under 15k words!
> 
> As always, thanks must go to my gang of besties, betas and cheerleaders for saving my ass at the last moment with this fic: TrenchcoatBaby, WaywardJenn, Malmuses, Lorelai2005, CBFirestarter and WaywardAF67.
> 
> And lastly, thanks to the mods for creating such a laid-back and welcoming bang: profound-boning, dusky-gold and unforth <3
> 
> Image in my banner is by Johannes Plenio on [Unsplash](https://unsplash.com).

_Friday, July 5_

Dean Winchester waited, ready to pounce. 

He was hunting in his favourite habitat—the soft lighting of a lounge bar, quiet piano music casting a lazy feel over the space. 

His prey—two tall, blonde women—twins, if he had to guess. Each leaning further along the bar, holding a Martini glass with a different color of cocktail inside, they'd been making eyes at him in turn over the last twenty minutes. 

He wasn't going to do this today. Of all days, he should not do this today. But… _twins_. 

At his indication, the guy behind the bar poured him another two fingers of the top-shelf whiskey he liked best. He adjusted the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, straightened his jacket, and pounced. 

He approached the girls wearing a confident smirk. “Ladies. Enjoying your evening?”

They both turned to him with identical ravenous looks, and the sudden tightness in Dean's jeans was no longer to be denied. He really shouldn't be doing this tonight, but fuck it. 

“You're Dean Winchester, aren't you?” the girl with the blue cocktail said, her accent plum and delicious. Dean had only been in England a few years, but he was starting to get the hang of the accents and dialects that made up the melting pot of London and her nightlife. 

“That's right,” he said, sliding his hand onto the bar beside the girl’s hip. “You've heard of me?”

“Only through reputation,” said the other girl, with the glass of lime green. “Is it true, then?”

Dean leaned a little closer. “Which part?” 

He'd heard all sorts of rumors circulating about himself since he’d first started playing the Kensington clubs, from the fact that he'd take home anyone who caught his eye, girl or guy (true) to his secret habit of wearing women's underwear (he would never confirm or deny such a thing), all the way to his supposed orgy with the entire cast of _Avenue Q_ , including puppets (entirely untrue, but hell, he'd try anything once). 

“Any of it?” The blue-drink girl stepped closer and placed her fingers on the left lapel of his jacket, her sharp nails scraping down the leather gently, her plump, red bottom lip caught between her teeth as her eyes flicked up to meet Dean's. 

Dean swallowed around a suddenly dry mouth and attempted to gather brain cells. “Why don't you let me buy you another drink and you can ask me all the questions you want.”

Green-cocktail girl sidled up to his other side, her pretty face twisted into a sympathetic look. She said something, but it was lost in the noise—the quiet piano had stopped and they'd put on some upbeat jazzy crap that Dean hated. He would have left here after the live music stopped, if it wasn't the best hunting ground for the young rich girls of London. 

Dean raised his voice, “I'm sorry?”

She leaned in so that her mouth was close to his ear, the sweet lime of her drink a pleasant freshness over the slight sting of cigarettes about her. A shiver ran through him as the image of a cigarette between those cherry lips hit him. “I said,” she stage-whispered into his ear, “I'm sorry about your mum.”

Dean felt the blood drain out of his face. His mom… He'd almost forgotten just for a moment. Almost forgotten the funeral for his own mother just a few hours ago—Mary Winchester, movie and television star, darling of the British tabloid press. He nodded, not sure what he was supposed to say. He'd been thanking people for their condolences all afternoon. Everyone was sorry, everyone sent him their love and their prayers. The whole reason for coming here was to forget his shitty day and get drunk and then laid, in any order. It seemed that wasn't on the cards any longer.

The girl took one look at his fallen face and hugged him, and he had a fleeting wish to just keep hugging her all night. She was a _good_ hugger. But he dismissed that thought, stepping back and offering a “What can you do” kind of shrug. 

“It's been a rough day. I'm just gonna”—he gestured at the bar behind the girls—“sit here and get wasted.”

The blue lagoon girl (he thought the cocktail had some other snobby name here, but it was, in fact, still a blue lagoon) nodded sadly. “A shame,” she said over the music. “Maybe another time.” She and her sister moved away from the bar, looking for other game. 

Dean watched them go in their slinky, strappy dresses, mourning the night that might have been, then he pulled out a stool under the bar and sat, nursing his whiskey. 

The bar had emptied considerably after the live music stopped, as it did every weekend after ten. This week the piano guy had been new, and Dean had enjoyed hearing him. The owners of the Asphodel bar should really have kept the guy playing. Anything would be better than this canned bullshit they were playing now. 

Dean glanced down the bar to his right, but the groups of people were all in their own clusters, turned away from him. In the other direction, a dark-haired, broad-shouldered guy sat hunched over a glass, staring into the depths of the same clear-blue cocktail the blonde twin had been drinking. The man had a miserable look to him, as though the happy, partying crowd around him didn’t exist and he was isolated in his bubble of sadness. Dean could relate—he’d felt the same way for most of this week.

Dean looked back at his drink, swirling the glass around so that the lights glinted off the ice. What was he even doing here? He should be at home, making sure Sam was okay, entertaining Ellen and Bobby while they were still in the country. 

But if he's gonna be here, and sad, might as well be miserable in company, or however the hell that saying went. 

He stood up, shuffling along with his drink to the stool next to the dark-haired guy. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, taking the seat anyway. The whiskey seemed to be hitting him harder than he had thought. 

The guy glanced up sharply, surprised, and whoa, was it just Dean, or did the lights in here make his eyes look electric blue? Dean was caught in the guy's gaze for a few moments, until he murmured, "Sure," and turned back to his drink. 

Dean's brain clicked back into gear. He knew this guy. Well, he didn't know him, but… "You're the piano guy, aren't you? You were just up there earlier." Dean nodded towards the stage, where a group of drunk women who could only belong to a hen's party were attempting to dance along to whatever crap was playing now. 

The guy nodded, back to looking miserable. 

When no further conversation seemed to be coming, Dean said, "Dude, I really love your music! I mean, your playing… I love the live piano music here. Although I usually prefer something more like classic rock, y’know, Led Zeppelin. But I really enjoyed your set just now."

The guy looked up in surprise, then back to his drink, a smile playing around his mouth. "Thank you."

"It's just a shame they make you stop at nine. The crap they put on afterwards…" Dean shook his head. 

The guy just shrugged, and took a sip of his drink, the blue matching his eyes in ultramarine. 

Dean wasn't sure he was going to be able to keep a conversation going one-sided like this, but he'd give it a try. “I'm Dean, by the way."

The guy swallowed his drink and said, "Castiel."

"Nice to meet you, Castiel. You're from the states, right? Been in London long?" 

"About…three weeks? I'm from Illinois."

This was more like it. Dean nodded. "I'm a Kansas boy myself, although I lived in L.A. for a few years before coming over."

The guy—Castiel—took another sip of his drink and screwed up his nose in a way that Dean couldn't help but find completely adorable on a broad-shouldered man. He looked at Dean and said, “Oh, right. I've never been there."

Dean considered him for a few moments. He could be wrong, but he was pretty sure this guy had no idea who he was—and the idea thrilled him. In the states, his mother had been well-known, but he and Sam had mostly flown under the paparazzi radar. Here in England, though, he couldn't go anywhere without ending up all over some tabloid or other. 

He watched as Castiel's tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip. Damn, this guy was effortlessly hot. Did he know the effect he was having on Dean? 

He cleared his throat, suddenly aware he was staring. He dropped his eyes to his own drink and shrugged. "It's just a big, noisy city. Have you seen much of London yet?" He looked back up at Castiel through his lashes. If he played this just right, perhaps his original plan for tonight was still in the cards. 

Castiel shook his head. "No, I've been busy with getting settled, and…other things." His eyes moved away again, across the bar. "What would you recommend seeing?" 

Dean shrugged, taking a long swallow of his whiskey. “Tower of London’s pretty cool. Westminster, all that, you know—” he waved a hand around, trying to think of a diplomatic way to describe how tedious he found all of it. “I guess it depends how into history you are. There’s craploads of it in this place.”

“I’ve always loved British history, actually.” 

Dean’s eyes were drawn back to Castiel’s honest expression, as he added, “This is the first time I’ve been here, though. I’ll see it eventually, I guess.”

Dean nodded. “How long are you here for?”

“For as long as I need to be?” Castiel said, hiding behind a sip of his drink.

Dean waited for an explanation, but when none seemed forthcoming, he said, “Come on, man, you can’t just say that and leave me hanging! Are you a spy or something?”

“No, I’m not a spy, but it’s a long, complicated story.” 

“Dude, I’ve just been at a funeral today. I’m in no hurry to go home.” Dean knew he was pushing the boundary with his big, half-drunk mouth, so he braced for the cold shoulder that he was sure was coming next. 

Castiel frowned, but somehow he didn’t assume the face of pity that everyone else had given Dean today. “A funeral? Oh, I'm sorry.” They drank in silence for a few seconds, before Castiel said, quietly, “I’m looking for my daughter.”

Dean turned to look at him again, wondering how someone who didn’t look a day over twenty-five had a daughter old enough to be in London without him. “Your…?”

“Yes, my daughter. She’s only five. My wife brought her to live over here, and didn’t tell me where they were or how long they’d be gone for.”

“Your wife? Man, that sucks, I’m sorry.” Dean mentally cursed. Married and straight? Just his luck.

“We’ve been estranged for a while, separated for a couple of months. It’s complicated. But I wasn’t expecting her to just…” He swallowed, then took a few breaths. “I just need to know that Claire is okay, that’s all. Her mother is… unstable.”

Dean wondered exactly what he meant by unstable, but decided not to pry. “You’re sure they’re in London? I’ve got connections in a few places, I might be able to look around a bit, see if I can find her?” He was pretty sure Charlie could find just about anyone in this crazy city.

Castiel looked up, his eyes wide. Wide, and so, so blue. “Oh no, please, don’t worry about it. I’ve got a few places to check, still. I’ll keep looking.”

Dean shrugged. “Suit yourself.” 

Along the bar behind Dean, a group of girls started giggling loudly. When he turned to see what the commotion was about, at least two of them gave him fluttering-eyelash come-hither looks. He smiled at them, but turned back towards Castiel, who had a horrified expression on his face. 

“I’m sorry, I’m keeping you from your night.” Castiel stood up, turning to start gathering up the beige trench coat he’d been sitting on top of.

Dean reached out and put a hand on Castiel’s forearm, stopping him still. “It’s fine, Cas. I prefer the company over here.”

Castiel sat back down with a thump, his eyes on the group behind Dean, wary. He leaned forward. “I think they might be about to eat me,” he said in a low voice, and wow, that sent a shiver right down to Dean’s toes.

Dean wished with all of his being that he could say that he’d _rather it was him doing the eating_ , but they weren’t quite on those terms just yet. He laughed, enjoying the way Castiel’s eyes lit up in return. 

“So,” Castiel said, pulling his drink back over, “a funeral? I hope it wasn’t anyone too close to you.”

Dean’s heart raced. _Here we go_. This is where Castiel either told him where to go, or took the hint. Time to throw in everything he had, straight or not. “It was pretty awful. I came here tonight to get so drunk I’d forget about it, actually. Or maybe, find someone—” he let his gaze linger on Castiel’s, “— to help me forget it.”

Castiel’s wide-eyed look as understanding dawned was a sight to behold, although Dean still braced for the coming rejection and disappointment. But it never came. 

Castiel said quietly, “I haven’t…haven’t since I was a freshman.”

“That's okay, it was a long shot,” Dean said carefully. So he _was_ a little interested after all. He allowed Cas the option of backing out, even though he was desperate to get his lips on the guy. If he wasn’t into it, that would be disappointing, but fine—Dean had plenty of spank-bank material to work with after tonight.

Castiel picked up his glass and took a huge mouthful, nearly gagging on it. “Fuck, that’s awful,” he said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as he put the glass back on the bar. His eyes found Dean’s again. “Let’s go.”

Heart pounding in his throat, Dean stood up, leaving his empty glass behind. He walked towards the back of the bar, hoping Castiel was following but not game to turn around to check. 

As soon as they got into the dim corridor leading to the bathrooms and the stairs up to the rooftop bar, Castiel grabbed Dean’s arm. When Dean turned to look at him in surprise, Cas pushed him into the shadows beyond the stairs, slamming Dean’s back against the wall and crushing their lips together. 

Dean threw his hands up and grabbed onto the sleeves of Castiel’s shirt, but didn’t push him away. He was torn between alarm, and being more turned on by the manhandling that he’d been in a long time. One of Castiel’s hands moved from the lapel of Dean’s leather jacket upwards, his long fingers running along Dean’s stubbled jaw. The other kept Dean pinned in place, and Dean moved one of his own hands upwards to grip the hair at the back of Cas’ head as he licked hungrily into his mouth. He tasted sweet after the cocktail. 

Cas pressed forward, pushing a knee in between Dean’s as he ground Dean into the wall, his already hard length pressing against Dean’s thigh. 

Dean gasped into Cas’ mouth, his own cock now uncomfortable in the confining jeans he was suddenly desperate to be out of. He dropped one hand to palm at his crotch, trying to take some of the pressure off, and the slight squeeze punched a moan out of him. 

Cas pulled back, dropping his gaze, then looking back up. He leaned in to place a few gentle kisses on the shell of Dean's ear, and whispered, "Let me take care of that for you." Dean felt Cas' hands pushing his own away and fumbling with his belt, and Cas' eyes were suddenly staring into his own, dark with lust. The guy was just so damn gorgeous, Dean expected to combust at any moment from the fire he was sure was under his skin. 

“W-wait,” he managed, and yanked Cas around the corner away from the bathroom doors. He headed towards the back exit, but Cas grabbed him again, stopping him.

“Stop,” Cas said, and it was Dean’s turn to place a tender kiss on Cas' lips. Cas dropped to his knees, renewing his assault on Dean's belt.

"Cas, are you sure you want to do this right here? Anyone could just walk around the corner," Dean said, unsure. 

Cas looked up at him, his hair wild from Dean's hands running through it, one eyebrow raised, his blue-eyed gaze hungry. "Yes, I'm sure," he replied, unzipping Dean's pants with a smirk. "That’s the whole point." 

"Oh," Dean choked out, a little louder than he intended. He glanced back down the hallway quickly, but the place was deserted. "Okay," he added more quietly, unbuttoning himself.

Castiel smiled up at him, then reached up and slowly ran his fingers along the rock hard bulge in Dean's boxers, making him shudder at the sparks that skittered along his limbs. 

Castiel looked up again, hesitant. "Dean, do you have a condom?" 

Deans brain short-circuited. "Do I…?" 

"I'm sorry, but we only just met, and I didn't exactly come here expecting to, um…"

"Oh. Oh, okay, sure. One sec." He fumbled in his back pocket and fished a crinkly wrapper out of his wallet. Castiel made quick work of it, rolling the rubber down over Dean’s cock with a firm downward stroke. Dean gasped at that, but then gave a strangled cry at the tight, hot mouth that had just surrounded him. Castiel looked up through his lashes, and the sight of him on his knees, Dean's cock in his mouth, stretching those plush lips was nearly enough to send Dean over the edge already. 

Cas bobbed his head back and forth a few times, then took Dean right to the back of his throat, making Dean see sparks. He pulled off, gagging slightly and coughed, looking up apologetically. “It's been a while," he murmured, licking his lips. 

“It's fine, Cas. Take your time, it's awesome," Dean said, smiling and running his fingers through Cas' hair and down the side of his cheek. 

Cas swirled his tongue around the head of Dean’s cock, then took him deep again, working him gradually back closer to his throat, making small rumbling sounds of arousal. Dean threw his head back and bit his bottom lip, trying to keep his moans to short, breathy gasps instead, but as Cas’ mouth stoked the fire at the base of his spine, he was aware he was getting louder. 

He wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last, when Cas grabbed one of Dean’s hands from where it resting on his shoulder and pressed it firmly against the back of his head, looking up at him. He…he wanted Dean to fuck his face? As he took Cas’ face between two hands and started to thrust into his willing mouth, gently at first, then a little more forcefully, he murmured, "Fuck, yeah, take it," as quietly as he was able to. He heard Cas fumbling with his own belt and roughly starting to jerk his own cock. 

A gasp and a little scream down the corridor had Dean opening his eyes just a crack, and through the haze of ecstasy he made out three girls standing in the corridor, frozen in shock, one with a hand over her mouth. “Are you serious?!” one squeaked, and they scurried back around the corner, giggling and saying, “Oh my god!” 

What if one of them had recognized him? Dean found in that moment that he really didn't care, and with the release of that tension, he came hard into Cas’ throat with a strangled cry. 

Cas hadn’t even been able to see the girls, but he let out the most filthy groan Dean had ever heard outside of a porno, his mouth still wrapped around Dean, and held tight to the base of his own cock with his left hand while still pumping with the right. As his movements slowed, he sat back on his heels with a huge sigh and a grin, cock still tightly in hand to stop him shooting his load all over the tiles between Dean's feet. He looked up at Dean with a blissed out expression on his face. 

Dean grinned at him, leaning down to plant a firm kiss on those sinful lips. “That was incredible,” he murmured before he straightened up, carefully removing the condom and tying it off. He dropped it on the floor briefly as he re-dressed himself.

Dean offered Castiel a hand and pulled him to his feet, where they gripped each other and kissed deeply again, Cas still holding tight. Cas was a great kisser—great everything, so far—Dean wasn’t quite ready to let him go just yet. This was exactly what he’d needed tonight—someone to take his mind off…everything.

“Let me check if the coast is clear,” he said gently, stepping back. He picked up the condom, checking around the corner, then grinned back at Cas. “C’mon, let’s get cleaned up.” 

Five minutes later they were back in the busy bar, Castiel leaning his shoulder gently into Dean’s. “You want another drink?” he asked Dean.

“Sure, but I’m buying this time,” Dean replied with a smile. When he pulled out his phone along with his wallet, he saw the notification light flashing. Sam had been trying to call him—had left him seven messages, apparently. “Ah, shit.”

Castiel looked over at the phone, frowning. “What is it?” 

“My brother wondering where I am. Look, I’m sorry, I’m gonna have to go. But...maybe I could still buy you that drink sometime.” Had that sounded desperate? Normally he would happily fuck and be on his way, but there was something about Castiel…something that had drawn him in. Apart from the best blow job he thought he’d ever had, of course.

Castiel smiled. “I’m playing again next Friday night.” 

Dean nodded, then leaned back in to steal a sweet kiss. Cas leaned into it, but Dean forced himself to step back. “See ya,” he said, and turned to head for the door before he could think better of it.

As he walked out onto the street, he pulled his phone back out and ordered an Uber, then called Sam. Time to face the music. Sam was gonna be pissed.


	2. Chapter 2

_Friday, July 12_

Dean left his Uber at the corner and walked down toward the Asphodel, stepping around people out enjoying the late summer light. 

The week since the funeral had been a complete shit-show, starting with a meeting with his solicitor to hear the reading of his mom's will. That particular day had ended with the whole room in tears once again, and the crushing weight of responsibility firmly on Dean’s shoulders. 

He was in no way prepared to take over his mother's businesses and charities. Some of them he'd never even heard of, but he was starting to understand why she'd always been so busy all the time, always off to meetings, or gala dinners, or days helping with whatever people needed help with. How she was able to look after two businesses and three charities on top of her filming commitments baffled Dean, but after two days filled with meetings with various CEOs and CFOs and UFOs or who the hell knew what else, he was starting to see his mom in a whole new light. 

Shame it was too late for that, though. Fuck, he needed a drink. 

At least he'd had tonight to look forward to. He’d been unable to get the dark-haired, blue-eyed pianist out of his mind, not just for the way he'd sucked Dean's cock like a pro, despite being apparently out of practise. He couldn't stop thinking about Cas' eyes, about the intensity in them when he spoke about his daughter. His concern was what had driven Dean to make a few inquiries himself, after asking at the Asphodel for the full name of their handsome and talented pianist. He hoped he could help Cas—anything would be worth it to see him smile again. Not to mention, for Dean to return the favor and get his mouth around that thick cock. 

He smiled to himself as he walked on down Edgware Road. 

The Asphodel was part of a strip of shiny, new glass and steel shops. The front looked unassuming enough, but the inside opened out to high ceilings over a wide concrete floor, already busy with its Friday afternoon clientele. 

As soon as Dean walked inside he could hear the piano. Cas was playing a smooth jazz number that Dean didn't immediately recognize, but as he moved through the crowd towards the bar he picked up the melody of that "Rolling in the Deep" song that Sam loved so much. He had to admit, it was beautiful like this, but he had a feeling that anything Cas touched turned to gold. 

He ordered a beer to start with, and took his pint through to the lounge area. Cas sat at the piano on one side of the room, engrossed in his music. Dean stopped just inside the door, admiring the way Cas' fingers flew across the keys and the look of bliss on his face. 

Dean sat in an empty seat near the windows, admiring the sunset-streaked clouds and nursing his beer as Cas played one song after another. No one in the crowd even so much as glanced in Cas' direction except for Dean, and he wasn't even sure if Cas had noticed he was here. 

The final song Cas played crept up on Dean slowly. He was mucking around with his phone, mindlessly scrolling through his social media accounts. His mom’s publicity people had drilled him and Sam long ago not to engage with anyone online, so he rarely posted or even commented on anything, but that didn’t stop him from keeping an eye on what was going down. He found himself humming along with a tune, and it took him a few confused seconds to realize it was Zeppelin—Cas was playing an understated, but complex arrangement of “Kashmir.” 

Dean looked up in surprise, and listened, rapt. The guy should definitely be playing somewhere better than a club in Paddington—he was brilliant. 

When he finally finished playing, Cas stood up, picking up the trench coat from the seat next to him. A few people near the piano called out their thanks and he smiled and thanked them in return, but no one clapped, and Dean was sitting too far away to start any applause himself without causing a scene.

As Cas turned towards him, Dean caught his breath at the smile that lit up Cas’ face. He had known Dean was there, after all. As he approached, Dean stood up, admiring the dark blue sweater that hugged Cas’ broad chest. Yep, this guy was stunning, and Dean was completely lost. 

“Hello, Dean,” he said with a shy, barely-there smile. 

Dean murmured, “Hey Cas,” and leaned towards him, squeezing one shoulder gently and placing a kiss on Cas’ cheek. 

“I wasn’t sure I’d see you here tonight,” Cas said as Dean pulled back, his face flushed. “Last Saturday night felt a little like a dream.” 

Dean nearly told him how he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, but held that thought back. Instead, he grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it. You want a drink? I’m just gonna…” he trailed off, gesturing towards the bar. 

“Thanks. Whatever beer you’re drinking will be fine,” Cas said as he sank into the seat opposite Dean’s.

The bar had filled considerably as Cas had been playing, but the bar staff were still on top of things and Dean was back to Cas with two pints before long. He passed one glass to Cas, clinking his own against it as he sat down. “Cheers.”

They drank, then Dean put his drink down just as some god-awful jazzy pop music started up. He was never going to be able to talk to Cas like this. 

He stood up, shifting to the chair next to Cas so he wouldn’t have to shout to be heard. “So, Cas, I gotta say congrats on a great set tonight. You should be playing with an orchestra, not in this dump.”

Cas looked down, a smile on his lips. “Thanks. That’s kind of you to say.”

"I mean it! How'd you get so great at piano, anyway?" Dean asked, picking up his beer again.

"Oh, y'know, a deal with the devil, the usual."

"Well whatever it was, it worked. That was beautiful. Especially that last one."

"That one was for you," Cas said quietly, a pink tinge back in his cheeks. 

Dean put his hand over his own heart. “Aw, thank you.” He wished he could pull Cas in to kiss him right here, but he knew there were already people around here watching them—he didn’t want to bring Cas into a scandal before they were even really an item.

Cas hid behind a long swallow of his drink, with Dean unable to tear his gaze away from the way his throat was bared. Fuck, his jeans were already getting tighter. This could be a long night. 

Cas eyed him back as he put the glass back down on the table. “So, did you have a good week?”

Dean shrugged one shoulder, taking a mouthful of his own drink. He still wasn’t sure if Cas even knew who he was, what his week had actually been like. “Busy. My mom… she had a lot of business and charity stuff. Lots of meetings.”

“Wait, your mom? The funeral you were talking about the other night… that was…” Cas trailed off, looking horrified.

Dean put a hand on his arm, trying to reassure him. “Yeah, it was my mom’s funeral. Don’t apologize, please—I’ve had enough people doing that this week. I came here the other night to blow off steam, and you were exactly what I was looking for.” He tried for a smile.

Whatever Cas had been about to say was interrupted as he looked up over Dean’s shoulder. 

Dean twisted around just as a hand landed gently on the side of his arm. 

“Hey, excuse me, Dean?” A pretty girl stood there, her equally pretty friend standing just behind her, clinging onto her arm and looking terrified. 

“Hi there,” he said, smiling as he stood up. Normally he didn’t mind people coming up to him, but this was the worst possible timing. 

The girl who’d spoken blushed bright red, and stammered out, “Um, uh, could we, um… would you mind if…” 

“You want to take a photo?” Dean asked, moving away from his chair. He still found it baffling that anyone wanted a photo with him in the first place, but when they were so nervous, it was super sweet. 

“Ohhhh my god, could we?” The girl fiddled with her phone, then Dean took it from her fingers and they posed for a selfie. As he handed her back the phone, he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Um, I’m…I’m Zara. And this is Jahnavi,” she said, not quite looking him in the eye. 

“Hey, Zara.” He pulled her into a hug, then her friend as well. “Thanks for coming over to say hi. You girls have a great night, now.”

They stammered their thanks and hurried away, cooing over the phone.

Dean sat down again, taking a long drink of his beer before he even looked at Cas. When he did, Cas was looking uncomfortable. 

“Okay, lay it on me,” he said finally, looking expectantly at Cas.

Cas opened his mouth, then closed it again. Eventually he said, “I’m missing something. This is embarrassing...but honestly I don’t really know anything about celebrities back home, and certainly not here, and—”

“Cas, it’s fine, I’ll explain. Honestly, I love it that you don’t know me already,” Dean smiled. “I’m Dean Winchester. My mom was Mary Winchester—she was an actress and philanthropist. She...she died in a car accident earlier this week.” Saying it out loud like that hit him full in the chest, and his smile fell away. He hadn’t actually said it out loud it like that yet—everyone he’d spoken to had already known every detail. He grabbed his beer and drained the last of it.

Cas spoke softly enough that Dean could hardly hear him over the music. “Dean, I’m so sorry. I did see something about that on the news. It must be awful to have to grieve in public—and those girls didn’t even hesitate…” 

“It’s nothing new. There’s a girl sitting over there—” he inclined his head to his right, without looking, “—who’s been taking pictures of us on her phone for the last twenty minutes. There are probably more around. We’ll be in the tabloids tomorrow. So, uh, fair warning—things can get weird around me.” 

Cas tilted his head to the side just as Dean had done a moment earlier—a movement that on Cas, Dean found inexplicably cute. "Don't you get annoyed by the attention?" 

"Sometimes, yeah. But you get used to it.” He needed to give Cas an out, in case he wasn’t into this. His stomach was leaden as he added, “So, y’know, if you’d rather not be involved in all that, that’s cool."

Cas considered him for a few moments, then said, “No, that’s okay. I don’t mind.” He looked around at the bar, now heaving with people, and frowned.

Relief bloomed in Dean’s chest. He hadn’t really been sure how Cas might react. There were usually two types of people Dean ended up spending time with these days—those that loved the media attention, or those that were Dean’s actual few friends and family, who avoided the paps with a vengeance. He hoped with every fiber of his being that Cas would end up in the second group. But first, they should find somewhere they could talk without shouting.

“Hey, wanna get out of here?” At Cas’ surprised look, he added quickly, “Ah jeez, I didn’t mean that to sound like...what I mean is, we could walk down to Hyde Park? It’s not far, and it’ll be a lot quieter.”

Cas smiled. “Sure.”

***

The street was busy with pedestrians when they finally made it outside, after Dean had run into several people he knew and introduced Cas as his friend. They’d stepped out into the evening air, the late twilight painting the sky a deep blue. 

Dean breathed a sigh of relief, leading Cas away from the Asphodel and towards the park. “Sorry about all that.”

“You come here a lot, then?” Cas asked, not even blinking at the cheesy line. 

Dean grinned as they fell into an easy walk side by side. “Sure. Gotta keep up my socialite persona somewhere, and this one happens to have the cutest musicians.” 

Cas looked away with a small smile. “And what do you do the rest of the week, when you’re not being a…a ‘socialite?’”

The air quotes with his fingers were oddly adorable. But this was the question Dean had been dreading. “Well, since a few days ago I’m a lot busier than I have been before. Before that I used to do some work helping out at one of my mom’s charities, helping kids down in Croydon.”

“You like to work with kids?” Cas asked, turning to him with a smile. 

“Yeah,” Dean said, feeling his face warm. “We mostly just play games with them, sometimes help them with school work, y’know… It’s not much, but I enjoy it.” 

They crossed the roads near Marble Arch and headed into the well-lit park, still busy with plenty of people enjoying the summer evening.

Cas took Dean’s hand, lacing their fingers together, and Dean’s heart warmed at the sweet gesture. “That’s very admirable. I’m a teacher, back in the states. I got a leave of absence to come here, but Amelia and I both have EU passports so I was able to get work here.”

“Oh, I assumed you were a musician for a living!”

Cas looked shocked. “Oh God, no. It’s not reliable work, not suitable at all to…to support a family.” His face fell. 

Dean pulled him closer as they walked, bumping their shoulders together. “Well I think you should do more of it. You’re amazing.” 

“Thank you,” Cas replied, falling quiet again as they walked across the park.

Dean was struck by how different this was to most of the recent interactions he’d had with…well, anyone. A week ago, he’d been deep in his grief, looking for someone to fuck and forget, to take him out of his mind for a while. Normally, his suave, player persona might have blustered his way through a hookup or two. Instead, he was getting to know this guy, and finding that he was interested in knowing more. There was something about Cas that disarmed him. It terrified him, but at the same time, his life here in London had been a few years of hollow actions, seeking pleasure for the sake of it. 

If the loss of his mom had been a descent into hell, meeting Cas had been a godsend. If he kept playing his cards right, who knew where they might end up?

“So, the meetings this week had been for your mom’s estate, I’m guessing,” Cas said, shaking Dean out of his thoughts as they neared the Serpentine—the long watercourse that ran across the park. 

“Yeah, lots of people to meet with. It sucked.” Lamps cast pools of light at regular intervals, but hardly shone out across the dark water. 

They stopped by the edge, and Dean idly noticed how different the place looked after dark, when the ducks and geese were asleep. 

Cas turned to Dean, asking gently, "Tell me about your mom. What was she like?" 

Dean looked over at him in surprise. "She was beautiful. Very kind—she was a patron for three charities. I didn't even know one of them existed until yesterday. I have no idea how she kept up with it all. She's been on this latest show for what… Just over four years now. Before that we lived in LA while she worked on a few movies."

"And you chose to move here with her?" Cas asked, surprised.

"Well, I was only nineteen. England sounded like adventure. Also my brother was only fifteen so he was coming with her whether he wanted to or not, and I couldn't let him…" He stopped before he could dump his mom in it—she'd left them alone a lot in the few years before that, while she went off to work at odd hours. Dean had been looking after Sam since they were small, since their dad had died, and he hadn't been about to stop. 

He took a sharp breath, aware that he hadn't spoken for a few moments. Cas was just watching him. "She died on her way home from a benefit dinner, for the refugee charity. Freak accident, some drunk asshole lost control and they crashed head first. Fireball and everything." He looked out over the lake without really seeing the view. It had been the worst night of his life, and he still hadn't been able to sleep much at a time, a week later. He rubbed tiredly at his eyes, surprised when he found them wet.

He sniffed a little, glancing at Cas. "Sorry, man. Didn't mean to…you know, get all sappy there."

"It's fine, don't apologize. I'm very sorry for your loss," Cas said gently. "She sounds like she was an admirable woman." 

Up until now, Dean had been able to talk to people about his mom when they'd asked, but for some reason, Cas saying that he admired her really hit him. He breathed deep, trying to loosen the tightness in his chest.

He turned away from the lake, scuffing his feet at some gravel on the path. “She was. It is what it is. I’ll cope.” He looked at Cas, who was still watching him, his hands loosely hanging at his sides. “What about you? You got family back home?”

Cas sighed, looking back to the lake. “My parents are separated—my mother lives in San Francisco, but I haven’t really been close to her for a while now. I moved to Illinois for college and came out as queer in the same year, which didn’t sit well with her Catholicism.”

Dean huffed. “I can imagine.” 

Cas glanced at him ruefully. “She started speaking to me again when she found out from my brother that I’d started seeing Amelia. She thought I’d been ‘fixed’.”

The air quotes really were adorable. “I guess you weren’t?” Dean asked, thinking of the other night.

“I guess not,” Cas murmured, stepping closer to Dean. “I’ve met this guy, you see.”

Dean’s pulse picked up as his focus sharpened. He was trapped in Cas’ gaze, helpless. “Oh?” he managed.

“Someone who takes my breath away,” Cas continued. “I couldn’t help but fall to my knees, he—”

Dean leaned forward to meet him in a searing kiss, reaching up a hand to Cas’ jaw. He tasted like beer and sunshine and summer, and as he reached out and pulled Dean’s hip so that their bodies were flush together, Dean knew that he couldn’t mess this up. Cas was someone special, and he needed Dean as much as Dean needed a release from this terrible week. 

Dean felt Castiel’s hand grip the short hair at the back of his head as he licked into Dean’s mouth, and Dean’s grip tightened on the fabric across Cas’ solid back. He needed to get Cas’ clothes off—needed to see what was under all these layers. 

They broke apart, panting slightly for breath. “Cas… Cas,” Dean said, then gave a small gasp as Cas pressed his nose into the soft skin under Dean’s ear and licked at the skin there. “My place is just a couple o’ blocks away. Come with me?”

Cas pulled back to look at him, his eyes shining in the dim light of the lamps in the park. He smiled, then leaned in to kiss Dean firmly. When they broke apart again, he smiled and said, “Lead on.”

Dean grabbed Cas’ hand and pulled him along, dodging the late-night crowds along the streets and up into his quieter neighbourhood. The tall terrace house he shared with his brother had been a gift from his mom—she lived further out of the city to the west. Dean wondered what Sammy was up to tonight—he’d hadn’t heard from his brother since they’d farewelled Bobby and Ellen that morning before they headed back to Heathrow. 

The lights were off when they got inside, though—just the entry light to welcome them home. When he’d finally got the door closed behind them, he pushed Castiel back against it and slammed their mouths and bodies together again. He gasped again when Castiel grabbed him and spun them around so that Dean was the one with his back against the door while Cas ground the rock-hard bulge in his trousers against him. Damn, he loved the firm, unyielding man-handling—not that he didn’t also love being able to sink his face into a soft, feminine shape. Right now, though, this was exactly what he needed.

He pushed Castiel away from him, shoving his coat off his shoulders, then shrugging off his own jacket as Cas got the picture. “Come on, Casanova,” he chuckled, hanging the coats on hooks by the door, then heading off to the stairs. He couldn’t see any lights on upstairs, which meant that Sam was probably out—absolutely the best outcome for all of them. 

Halfway up the stairs, Cas grabbed Dean’s hand and stopped him from moving further. Dean turned to look down at him, the dim light from downstairs haloing his wild hair. 

“Dean?”

“What is it?”

“I...it’s just...I don’t know if…” He trailed off, sounding terrified. 

Dean’s heart sank as Cas’ second thoughts caught up with him, but he smiled, leaning down and tilting Cas’ face up with a hand to his chin. He stopped Cas’ stammering words with a gentle kiss. “Tell me.”

“I just…I sense that you sleep with a lot of people. I’m…out of practise.”

Dean tugged Cas’ hand, pulling him up the stairs. “C’mon, sweetheart, I’ll show you how it’s done.”

When they reached Dean’s room at the front of the house, Dean turned on a bedside lamp, then walked around to close the drapes. He turned to find Cas standing awkwardly by the door. He didn’t bring a lot of people home like this, and he was suddenly conscious of the size of the room, the king-sized bed and matching furniture. He mentally congratulated himself for finding the energy this morning to do his laundry rather than leaving it all over the room. 

He crossed the room to Cas and picked up his hand again, lacing their fingers together. He leaned in, murmuring, “If you don’t want to do this, just say the word.” He placed his lips on Cas’ jaw, moving his kisses up towards his ear, revelling in the rough stubble and Cas’ caught breath.

When Dean raised his hands to start unbuttoning Cas’ shirt without looking, Cas took over, swatting his hands away as Dean continued to kiss Cas’ soft skin, moving down to his shoulder once it was bared. Dean stepped back for barely a moment to admire Cas’ bare chest, the firm muscle underneath dark curls of hair. He wanted to lick every inch of this man. 

Cas chuckled suddenly, and Dean realized he’d said that out loud. “What? You’re gorgeous,” he protested, allowing Cas to help him out of the Ramones t-shirt he’d been wearing underneath his jacket. They made short work of their own belts and pants, and then they were standing in their boxers. They faced each other for barely a second, before they came together again, mouths, chests, hips—warm skin on skin. 

Cas pushed Dean backwards, their lips still locked, but they came apart as Dean stumbled and sat down on the edge of his bed. This was Dean’s favourite part, always—the moment when he knew his partner was as hungry for it as Dean was. Cas certainly looked as though he might devour Dean as he pushed him onto his back, straddling his hips and dropping his head to kiss Dean. He moved his lips to Dean’s jaw, and as the rock-hard bulge in Cas’ boxers dragged across Dean’s, he gasped, seeing sparks.

“Cas...Cas!” Dean managed, and was electrified as Cas pulled back from Dean’s neck and met his gaze, his pupils blown. Dean brushed his hand over Cas’ boxers and the sound that came from Cas was pure sex. He got up onto one elbow, tasting the skin at Cas' shoulder as he gripped it with his other hand. He pushed, and Cas went willingly, falling onto his back next to Dean. 

He started at Cas' neck and shoulders, but soon moved across his chest, licking, biting occasionally, relishing the soft moans coming from the delicious man beneath him. When he reached the black cotton boxers Cas was wearing, he met Cas' gaze and murmured, "May I?" At Cas' nod, he pulled them down just enough to free Cas' hard, thick cock from under the waistband. 

"Fuck, Cas…" His mouth watered as he trailed his fingers up the underside, Cas' velvety skin hot and pink. He bent down to lick, just to taste, but Cas reached down and pulled himself out of reach.

At Dean's baffled look, he said, "I'm…I'm sorry, I want you to lick it as much as you want to, but we need to be safe." 

"Right, sorry." Dean shuffled back. He had to arrange a test as soon as possible—he may have always tried to be safe in the past, but hell, he wouldn't trust himself either, in Cas' position. 

He pulled a few condoms and lube out of the bedside table drawer, cracking open one wrapper and rolling it onto himself, before taking another and moving back to kneel at Cas' feet. "Better?" he asked, holding up the condom. 

"Yes, thank you. I'm sorry, I—" 

Dean silenced him by rolling the condom down Cas' length then taking his head into his mouth. The latex was pretty gross, but the gasp Cas made was completely worth it. He started up a steady rhythm, licking around his head and taking him as far into his throat as he could manage with the latex in the way. 

Castiel writhed on the bed, “Dean, I need...need you to…”

“What do you need, baby? Tell me. You want me to ride this pretty cock of yours?”

Cas blinked, obviously trying to gather his thoughts. “You... you’d do that?”

Dean reached over for the lube, murmuring, “I’ve wanted it inside of me since I laid eyes on it.”

“I’m sorry, I just assumed you’d want to...to, uh…” Cas said, looking flustered.

“It’s fine, Cas. We can switch later if you want.” He smirked, popping the cap of the lube.

Cas just lay there, eyes wide, as Dean squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. Dean spread his legs wider and rubbed across his ass, hissing a little at the cool gel. It had been a while since he’d been with a guy like this—he might take a little more prep than usual, but he was surprised when Cas grabbed the tube and squeezed some more out. 

“Let me help,” he said, reaching down to take over. Dean groaned as Cas’ finger teased at his hole, then again when he pushed his thick finger past the rim and inside, wincing at the sting. “Take it easy there, tiger,” he panted out, and Cas started up a smooth rhythm of in and out, stretching to a second finger after a little while. With a brief glance between moans, Dean saw that Cas kept one hand on his own cock while he worked, watching intently.

Dean arched into his touch, from his position on his knees, fucking himself down onto Cas' fingers, enjoying the burn and stretch, the electric moments when a finger grazed his prostate. “Come on,” he panted, “come on, Cas. I need you.”

Castiel withdrew his fingers, then made sure the condom was still in place over his cock.

Dean moved down the bed a little, lining Cas up with his entrance. Cas didn’t break eye contact as Dean let himself drop, pushing Cas steadily inside, and he sighed as he lost himself within those deep, blue eyes. The stretch and burn, he could live with. The intensity of that gaze as Cas held him there, buried to the hilt, was something else entirely. 

Dean drew himself upwards, then slammed himself down, making Cas cry out and Dean’s own vision flash white. “Fuck, Dean,” Cas called as Dean started up a steady rhythm, taking him deep every time. 

Cas gripped Dean’s hip with one hand to encourage him to keep up the pace, and Dean held the base of his cock, trying to stave off the orgasm that was already starting to build.

Cas didn’t look like he was too far off either. His head was thrown back, his eyes mostly closed, he thrust upward only a few more times before his hips faltered in their rhythm, but he held Dean steady as he lost it himself, fireworks exploding behind his eyes and spreading to the tips of his fingers. 

Dean opened his eyes, blinking back the pricking of tears that the strong orgasm brought on, to see Cas still holding still, his eyes tightly closed. “Cas? You okay?” He reached down, running his hand down Cas’ arm. 

Cas opened his eyes and looked up at him. A slow smile lit up his face, and as Dean climbed off gently and lay down beside him, he held the condom closed as he pulled it off. “I’m not really sure. I think I may have died at some point this evening and gone to heaven.” 

Dean snorted. “Dude, you’re supposed to use the cheesy lines before we get in bed.” He pulled Cas toward him with his one cleaner hand at the back of his neck, kissing him gently. 

They lay like that for a few minutes, nose-to-nose and trading soft kisses, until Dean’s heart was mostly steady again.

“Come join me in the shower?” he asked with a coy smile, then sat up, carefully avoiding messing up his bedspread with lube. He extended a hand to Cas, who took it and allowed himself to be pulled to the edge of the bed. 

They crowded into Dean’s ensuite bathroom, Dean once again pleased that he’d insisted on the large shower and the drenching showerhead. Good plumbing was hard to find in this country, as they’d discovered when they first moved in here and had to have baths until they could get someone in to renovate the bathrooms. Thankfully, now, the hot water beat down on him and Castiel, as they soaped each other up. Dean let his hands wander to Cas’ cock, half-hard again already. He stroked it a few times for Cas, enjoying the way he threw his head back and sighed. “Dean…”

Dean leaned in and licked at the water running down Cas’ neck, resisting an urge to suck a mark there. Cas nudged Dean’s hard length with his hip, then turned to line them up together, grabbing both in one fist and stroking them together. 

“H-holy shit, Cas...that feels amazing,” Dean gasped, 

“You make me feel amazing, Dean…my whole life, I’ve never—” Cas stopped as Dean kissed him again, then pulled back for just a moment. 

“No Hallmark during sex.” Dean smirked, then moaned again as Cas thrust his hips forward, rubbing their cocks against each other. 

“But... ahhh… I want your cock in my throat again,” Cas panted, sending a jolt of fire down Dean’s spine. “But… it's not… not safe.”

Dean stepped back, taking his own cock in his hand. “Okay, how about we watch each other instead?” 

Cas looked confused as he started jerking his own cock roughly, but his face soon showed his pleasure again as Dean also pumped his.

“One day, I’m gonna taste that beautiful cock. And then you’re going to fuck… fuck my face like I did to you in the club, and you’re gonna shoot your load all over my face and mark what’s yours.” Dean panted as he felt his release coming again, so soon already, but Cas was just so…so fucking hot.

“Jesus, Dean… I, I…” Cas stammered, as he came into the watery deluge, and Dean followed, his own release lost in the water swirling around his feet. 

They stood, panting under the spray for a few moments, before they looked up at each other, grinning. 

They toweled off after their shower, still trading kisses now and then. Dean was grateful for the affection—it made such a change from most of the bar flies he hooked up with, even those at the classy Asphodel.

Dean threw back his bedspread and climbed in, turning to see Cas hovering near the bathroom door. 

“It’s okay if I sleep here, right? I can go, if you’d—”

“Cas, it’s fine. C’mon.” He patted the bed beside him and smiled.

Relief passed across Cas’ face as he climbed into bed and snuggled down beside Dean, tucked under his arm. Dean pulled him in tightly, kissing his temple. 

“Thank you, Dean. I’m not sure I would have made it all the way home, anyway.” He covered a huge yawn with one hand.

“You’re very welcome,” Dean said with a grin. He ran his fingers through Cas’ dark hair, as he’d been dying to do again all week. “That was all pretty freaking amazing for someone out of practise.”

Cas huffed. “The last time I slept with a man was a long time ago. And Amelia had I haven’t exactly…” He trailed off.

Damn, back away from that conversation. It wasn’t really the time to tell Cas that he might have some resources to help his search, so instead, he put his fingers under Cas’ chin and lifted it slightly so that he opened his eyes again to meet Dean’s gaze. “Hey, don’t worry about that stuff now. Get some sleep—it can all wait.”

The softness in Cas’ eyes as he looked at Dean stole his breath away all over again, and as Cas leaned forward to press his lips to Dean’s, Dean thanked his lucky stars all over again. He absolutely did not deserve this.

His life as a socialite in London up to now had been a string of one-night-stands, rarely more than two nights, with a range of gold-diggers or party boys. But finding Cas this week had been a godsend, in more ways than one. He’d laid his soul bare, and Cas had held it as though it were something precious. Not to mention what they’d just shared was gonna be on his mind for a long time. 

Dean pulled Cas tighter into his arms and placed a kiss on the top of his head. He was starting to hope he’d be able to hold onto Cas, after he helped him find his family.


	3. Chapter 3

_Saturday, July 13_

Dean stood at the stove, an omelet frying. Sadly, he’d been forced to get dressed after a lazy morning of kisses and gentle hand jobs, followed by more napping with Cas, but he was expecting Sam home at any time. He probably shouldn’t mentally scar Sam any more than he already had over the two years they’d lived here together. 

He’d tempted the rumpled, sleepy Cas out of bed with the promise of coffee, and the man himself sat at the breakfast bar, sipping at the largest mug Dean could find in their kitchen. His hair was disheveled and he looked barely awake, but he was wearing a shirt and sweats of Dean’s, and the sight kept making Dean warm all over every time he turned around. 

The caffeine kicked in gradually, but eventually Cas said, his voice deliciously rough, “Thank you, Dean.” 

“What for?” Dean asked, chuckling.

Cas regarded him over the top of the mug. “I’m not really a morning person.”

Dean smirked, moving towards him. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” He leaned over and planted a kiss on Cas’ forehead. “More coffee, sunshine?”

Cas merely held out the mug, his blue eyes holding a smile so content that Dean could hardly breathe for a few moments. He managed to turn away to refill the mug from the coffee pot, then handed it back over and hurried back to the stove. Serving up the omelets onto plates, he sat at the breakfast bar beside Cas and bumped their knees together as they ate. 

“This is amazing, Dean. Thank you,” Castiel said between mouthfuls.

Dean nodded. “Welcome.”

“So, obviously you don’t live in this great big house alone,” Cas said, gesturing at the many pairs of shoes near the back door.

Dean followed his gaze. “The clown shoes belong to my little brother, Sam. He lives here too. He’s at law school at the moment so he’s not home a whole lot, although he’s on summer break at the moment. His girlfriend lives in Hampstead.” Sam spent a lot of his time at Jess’ these days, which Dean had to admit, made this big house a little lonely from time to time.

Cas nodded, watching Dean thoughtfully. “And he’s your only other family now in England?”

“Yep. My Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen were in town this week, but they’ve headed back to Kansas now.” The thought of Bobby and Ellen made his heart clench all over again. He wished with his whole heart that they could have stayed longer, and under better circumstances. He took a steadying breath, and continued, “Y’know, it’s funny—while they were here, I didn’t want to spend any time with them. It was all too much—the house was too busy. But now that they’re gone…” 

“You miss them, right?” Cas put a hand on Dean’s thigh and rubbed gently. 

“I do.” Dean winced as he realized how cringey this conversation was. “Hey, I’m sorry to dump all this on you. Probably didn’t expect a hookup to turn into a therapy session.” He chuckled weakly.

Cas shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s not like I have a lot of ‘hookups’ to expect anything.” He raised his hands for the air quotes again, and Dean held in a grin. 

“So, uh…” Dean began, not sure he should be bringing the subject up at all. “How about you? Find anything in your research this week?” 

Cas looked down at his mug, frowning. “No. I only had a vague idea of where they might be, staying with Amelia’s sister in Thornton Heath. No one will speak to me when I’ve tried calling schools and other places. I have no idea where to even start.”

Dean swallowed the last of his breakfast. “Okay, I have a small confession to make.” 

Cas looked at Dean warily. “You do?”

“I might know how to get in contact with Amelia and Claire.” Dean continued as Cas’ eyes widened, before he could speak. “I did a little digging myself, earlier in the week. It helped to take my mind off…other things, especially once I spoke to a friend of mine who works for one of Mom’s charities—the Croydon Neighbourhood House. Remember, I said yesterday I do some work for them now and then? Thornton Heath should be part of their district." 

Cas frowned slightly. "What has a charity got to do with my family? Amelia would never ask for help like that."

"No, I'm not saying she’d…no, listen. My friend, Charlie? She’s their IT girl. She can get into their systems. I know they offer welcome packs to new families who move into the area, who enroll in schools. My friend might be able to…y’know, find out some things.”

“And what, find out where she’s enrolled Claire? How is that even legal? What about privacy laws?”

Dean huffed. “Well, no, it’s not legal at all. But if you want to find them, it’s a good lead. At least, I trust Charlie to find something.”

Cas still looked unsure. “I guess I need to take whatever help I can. I’m not getting far on my own.” He rubbed at his forehead with his fingers and thumb. “Have you mentioned this to your friend already?”

_Here we go._ “Um, yeah. I might have asked her if she could look into it. But she hasn’t got back to me, so if you’re okay with it, I’ll call her this morning and see what she’s got for us.”

Cas just stared at Dean for a few moments, the emotions on his face looking like disbelief and wariness. 

Dean grabbed Cas’ empty plate and took it over to the sink. “Or, y’know, not. That’s fine. Just thought it might make it easier to—”

“Dean,” Cas interrupted, getting to his feet. “Thank you for doing that for me.” He joined Dean at the sink, putting his arms around him from behind and kissing his cheek. 

Dean felt his face warming under the thanks. “Okay. And maybe then we can go see if we can arrange a visit.” 

Cas moved back to sit at the breakfast bar while Dean loaded the plates into the dishwasher. “Oh no, that won’t be necessary. I don’t want to actually speak to them.” 

“What?” Dean stood up, closing the machine. “You came all this way and you don’t want to—?”

“No,” Cas interrupted. “I only wanted to make sure they were okay. They’re better off without me, I just need to know Claire is okay, that’s all.”

Dean frowned, “And then what? Once you’ve seen they’re okay?”

Cas shrugged. “I guess I’ll go home.” His forehead creased as he said it.

The answer made an odd sadness bloom in Dean’s stomach, but hey, it was Cas’ life, and he could do whatever he wanted to. “Well, okay then. I’ll call Charlie then?”

He pulled out his phone and put in on speaker to call her. “Dean? ‘Sup, bitch?” she said cheerfully.

Dean glanced at Cas, who raised one eyebrow in an unspoken question. Damn, that was distracting.

“Uh, hi Charlie,” he said, attempting to claw back his focus. “I’ve got Castiel here, y’know, the guy who I mentioned the other day? Who’s looking for his family?”

“Oh, sure. Sorry, hi Castiel.”

Cas merely said, “Hello.”

Charlie got straight into it. “So, I’ve managed to find some school enrollment info, but I’ve gotta say, Dean, I’m…not sure if I want to give this info out to just anyone. I mean, are they hiding from him? He could be some kind of psychopath, or prone to violence or something, y’know?”

“I’m right here, you know,” Cas protested.

Dean put up a hand to attempt to calm Cas, and said, “It’s fine, Charlie. We’ll stay with him the whole time. I can vouch for him.”

Dean heard Charlie sigh on the other end of the line. “Okay, okay. What’re their names? I can do the search, then you’ll have to come pick me up from the office, though. I can take a long lunch.”

Dean glanced at his watch. “We can be there in maybe forty-five minutes. You alright with this, Cas?"

“We’re going today?” Cas looked a little pale.

Dean shrugged. “Sure. Weren’t you going looking today, anyway?”

“Yes. I mean, if Charlie’s available…” Cas still sounded unsure, so Dean reached out and grabbed his hand.

“Amelia and Claire Novak,” he said, giving Cas’ hand what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

Charlie responded cheerfully, "Sure. I’ll see you guys then. Bye!" 

Dean hadn't even hung up yet before Cas said, “Dean, thank you for doing that, but I’m really not sure going looking for them today is a great idea.”

“Why not, Cas? You said you were having trouble finding them—let us help you. And if we find them and you decide not to engage, then that’s fine, but… think about what’s best for Claire, okay? You deserve to be in her life. Oh, and I’m sorry about the, uh, the psychopath thing.”

Castiel sighed. “No, I guess that was called for. How’re we gonna get across town?”

“I’ll drive. It’s fine, I have a garage space for my car around the back,” Dean said, just as the front door closed with a bang. 

Cas glanced at Dean questioningly, and Dean stood up from his stool, moving towards the kitchen door. 

Sam stood inside the front door, taking off his coat. Even from the other end of the hall, Dean could see the circles under his eyes, the fatigue in his tall frame. 

Dean nodded to him. “Hey, Sammy. You alright?”

Sam gave him a curious look, probably switching on to Dean’s sudden nerves. “I’m fine. What’s up, Dean?”

He gestured into the kitchen, saying, “Come here, I want you to meet someone.” When Sam moved forwards to look into the kitchen, Dean explained, “This is Castiel. He plays piano at the Asphodel.”

“How’re you doing, Cas?” Sam stepped forward and reached out to shake Cas’ hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Cas said, smiling. “I, uh, heard about your mom. My condolences.” 

Sam smiled sadly. “Thanks. It's been hard, but we're doing okay. I’ll just go change and get out of your way.” 

“It’s cool, we’re just heading out, anyway.” Dean followed Sam out into the hall, saying quietly, “You sure you’re okay, dude? You look kinda peaky.”

“I’m fine, Dean,” Sam said, “but maybe you should take it easy? Like I said, it’s been a rough couple of weeks.”

Dean blinked at him. “What’re you talking about?” 

“I mean, your usual coping habits aren’t usually the healthiest, but…this guy seems nice.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean replied, waggling his eyebrows and grinning.

Sam huffed a laugh as he turned to go upstairs. “Whatever. Just look after yourself.”

“Pff, I always do,” Dean scoffed.

“And Dean?” 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for having pants on.”

***

At the Croydon Neighbourhood House offices, Charlie bounced out to meet them just a few minutes after Dean had sent her a text to say they’d arrived. It had taken them a while to get Dean’s black Aston Martin Vantage through the Saturday traffic to Croydon, but they eventually made it. Dean still missed driving his dad’s Impala on the open road so much, it hurt. He’d had to leave it behind when they moved over here, and it was still gathering dust at Uncle Bobby’s place. Not that the Aston wasn't fun to drive—he got out of the city as often as he could, but it wasn’t so easy when he lived right in the center. Getting outside the ring of the M25 felt like a trial by fire, some days.

Dean hugged Charlie, and introduced her to Cas through the open windows. Before Charlie opened the door to get in the car, she gave Dean an approving nod, eyebrows high. 

“Shut up,” he muttered as she chuckled. 

“Hi Cas, lovely to meet you,” she said, once she was in the back seat. “Your daughter is enrolled at a school not far from here, and I managed to find an address. Here ya go,” she said, handing over a post-it note with something scribbled on it. 

“This is where they’re living?” Cas asked as Dean started the car with a rumble. 

“I think so, yeah,” Charlie said. “I mean, that’s the address she gave on the enrollment. Doesn’t mean they’re there, but it’s worth checking out, right?”

“Thank you, Charlie,” Cas said. “Morningside Avenue. You know where that is, Dean?”

“Nope.” Dean fired up Google on his phone, punching in the address. “But that’s what we’ve got phones for. Oh, it’s not too far away.”

Morningside Avenue was a pleasant row of terraces with tiny front gardens and a curb lined with cars. They managed to find a parking spot further up the street from the address Charlie had found, and Dean switched off the engine, turning to Cas. 

“What do you wanna do?” he asked, letting Cas make the first move. 

Cas took a deep breath, opening the door of the car and stepping out into the sunshine. Dean glanced back at Charlie, and they both got out as well. Cas had already taken off up the street, but suddenly he stopped. 

A young girl was coming towards them on a small, pink scooter. She stopped, staring.

“Daddy?” The blonde girl’s eyes were wide and blue, a perfect reflection of her father’s.

Cas stood still as stone, then collapsed onto one knee and held out his arms. “Claire,” he breathed, as Claire dropped the scooter and ran forward into his arms. He held her close, pressing kisses into her hair. 

Dean stood back with Charlie, his throat tight and eyes stinging with tears. He wished, more than anything, that he could hug his mom at that moment. But it was too late...too late. He gulped down his own tears—he had to hold it together for now.

Cas wiped at his face, as Claire pulled back to look at him.

“Daddy, I missed you. Why didn’t you come in the plane with us?” Claire asked seriously.

Cas spread his hands. “I couldn’t, baby. But I had to come to make sure you were okay. And you are, right?”

Claire nodded. “Yes, I’m okay. We’re on our way to the park. Mom’s making me go to school, and it’s really different to my school back home, and some of the kids aren’t nice. Michael said I talked funny so I punched him in the nose.”

Cas choked back a laugh mixed with a sob, and brushed a stray lock of hair out of Claire’s face. “Good girl, but maybe try telling a teacher next time rather than punching, okay?” 

“He started it! Anyway, when are we going home? Are you going to go back to America with us?”

“Claire?” Another voice sounded from along the sidewalk. A tall, blonde woman with high cheekbones was hurrying towards them. “Castiel?” she asked as she approached, her eyes wide. “Claire, come here at once.” Her eyes darted back up to Cas. “What are you doing here? Who are these people?”

Claire returned to the woman’s side, and Cas stood up straight, wiping his eyes quickly. “Amelia. I’m not here for a fight,” he said, holding his hands out in a peaceful gesture. “These are my friends, Dean and Charlie. You left so quickly…I didn’t even get to say goodbye, and I didn’t know where you’d gone.”

“How can you—? Castiel, _you_ left _us_. You left, in the middle of the night! You don’t get to come here and say that you missed us. What do you want, for us to forgive you?” Amelia’s face was mottled red, and while she wasn’t quite shouting in the street, her voice was raised. 

“No!” Cas walked forward to where she was standing, then dropped his voice and spoke to her quietly, so quietly that Dean couldn’t make out what he was saying from where he and Charlie stood. 

While the Novaks spoke to each other, Charlie reached out and squeezed Dean’s arm, saying, “You okay?”

Dean turned away from Cas and Amelia, and met Charlie’s concerned eyes. “I dunno, Charlie. It’s a lot.” 

Charlie frowned sympathetically. “I don’t envy you the couple of weeks you’ve had. I miss her too, you know.” 

The tightness in Dean’s chest threatened to crush him for a few moments, and he wondered if he might throw up right there in the street, but he managed to force a breath in. He reached up to cover Charlie’s hand, still resting on his arm, and took another shaky breath, nodding. “Thanks for doing this for us. For him. He needs this.” 

“My pleasure. Anyway, sounds like this week wasn’t all tragedy, after all. He’s dreamy,” Charlie said, dropping her hand and smiling. 

Dean looked back towards Cas and his family, to see that Amelia and Claire were heading back up the street away from them. Cas had just turned around and was heading towards them, looking down at the pavement. “Yeah, he is,” Dean murmured, and although the tightness was still there, it was a little less, somehow.

Cas approached, searching Dean’s face a moment. “Dean, are you okay? You look pale.” 

Dean waved his hand dismissively. “I’m fine. How did it go? We couldn’t really hear much.” 

“Better than I expected, honestly. Let’s go, I’ll tell you on the way.”

They piled back into the Aston Martin and headed back towards the CNH offices. 

Cas was calmer than Dean had ever seen him. “Amelia has agreed to let me see Claire, under supervision. I’m not sure how long that will last—I expect I’ll have to get lawyers involved at some stage, but it’s a start. Thank you both for making that possible.”

“Hey, I’m proud of you for going through with it,” Dean said, reaching over to grab Cas’ hand where he sat in the passenger seat, and lacing their fingers together.

“Anytime, Cas! I’m glad we could help. She’s a little cutie!” Charlie said from the back seat. 

Cas smiled back at her. “She really is.”

***

They dropped Charlie back at the CNH offices, with a promise to catch up for a drink sometime soon. By the time they made their way through traffic to Dean’s place, it was late afternoon, and Cas suggested a walk down to Hyde Park before he had to go get ready for his Saturday night set.

As they passed a news stand on Edgware Road, Cas grabbed Dean’s arm to stop him. Dean turned to look at what Cas had spotted, and chuckled. Cas had grabbed a copy of _The People_ , a weekend tabloid containing what Dean had always thought of as a complete load of bullshit and scuttlebutt. On the front page was a large color photo of Dean and Cas, sitting together in the Asphodel, smiling at each other.

Cas stood there, paper in his hands, just staring at the photo.

Dean winked at the lady looking after the stand as he paid for the copy, and she gave him an apologetic grin in return.

“C’mon, Cas,” he murmured as he draw Cas onwards down the street. 

“But this is just awful, Dean. Listen to this: ‘Dean Winchester’s mystery man: Just days after the death of his beloved mother, Mary Winchester, Dean has been spotted out and about with a new man on his arm. This man, said to also be an American national, but identified so far only as Cass,’—” he looked up from the paper for a moment as they crossed the busy road at the signals, “—‘Cass’ with two esses, seriously? ‘...plays a jazz piano set at the Asphodel on Edgware Road in the evenings. A close family friend revealed that Dean is deep in depression, throwing himself into hedonism to get over his mother’s loss.’”

“Congratulations, Cas with two esses,” Dean said, laughing, “You’re about to get a lot more of an audience.”

Cas looked up at him with a grimace. “You’re not bothered about what this ‘close friend’ said?”

“I can guarantee that person is no friend of mine, if they even exist. Ignore it, it’s trash.”

Cas tore the front page off the paper, then threw the rest of it into a nearby recycling bin. “At least we got a copy of the picture.” He folded it up and pocketed it.

They wandered the paths in the park, buying an ice-cream from the van along the way, and watched the ducks try to work out which family had the tastiest bread. As they sat on a park bench that happened to be vacant, Dean only spotted one person taking a photo of them with a phone camera. That must be some kind of record for him.

“So,” he said. He was dying to know. “You left them?”

“You heard that, did you?” Cas sighed, leaning back against the seat. “Yes, I left them. I’m not proud of it now—in fact I wish I hadn’t, but then, I probably wouldn’t be here, and might still be stuck there.” He paused, rubbing at his face as he thought. “Amelia is…controlling. She has to be in control of every aspect of her life, and after we were married and started to build a life together, that included every aspect of my life. She’d have to know where I was all the time, who I was with, she’d text me, call me. I went away for a conference when Claire was about a year old, and she would call me in tears every night. It was overwhelming.”

“So you left?” Dean munched on his cone, enthralled.

“Well, when you say it like that it sounds like I suddenly snapped, and I guess that isn’t far off. It built up over time, her mistrust, and when I spent a load of money she attacked me over it. I had bought Claire a bike for her birthday, which apparently wasn’t what we’d agreed. Anyway, she screamed at me and I…I’d had enough. I packed a few things and left that night. A week or so later, she and Claire were gone.”

“Jesus, that’s rough.” 

Cas shrugged one shoulder. “I freaked out at first, but eventually her parents told me they’d moved here. I couldn’t just let them go like that. And now, I’m glad I came after them. I was...scared. Scared to face her. But I’m glad I got talked into it.” He turned to look into Dean’s eyes, smiling. “In fact, I might even stay here quite a while.”

Dean’s heart swelled, but Cas really needed to know what he was getting into with this. He took a breath and said, “Cas, don’t stay on my account, okay? I honestly have no idea what I’m going to do with my life—before this week I was just a… a nobody living off my mom’s paycheck, doing some volunteer work with the kids at Croydon. Now I’m responsible for all these businesses and I have no idea what to do with any of it, and I’m gonna lose my time with the kids because of it.”

“No, Dean, don’t say that. You care about these kids—you cared enough to help me find my family! Didn’t your mom have a load of people to run her businesses for her? Give yourself time to get on top of things.”

Dean considered his words as Cas continued. “Anyway, what’s stopping you from spending the time with the kids? Your mom obviously cared for them, too. She’d be happy to see you working with them.”

“Truth is…” Dean paused as the weight of the words sank in. “Truth is, I’ll never know that. She never told me what she wanted of me, and now it’s too late.”

“All you can do now is try to make something of what she left you. Sam will help, I’m sure. And I… I’ll do what I can, if you’d like me to. I'm certainly staying, whether it's on your account or not.” 

“I’d like that a lot.” Dean leaned in and kissed Cas, their lips barely meeting, then he pulled Cas into his side as they watched the people feeding the ducks in the sunshine. And if a stray tear happened to roll down Dean’s cheek, he wiped it away before the cameras could see.

***

_Four months later_

Dean sipped at his beer, keeping one eye on the door and the other on a group of girls on the opposite side of the room who kept looking at him over their shoulders and giggling. He was pretty sure one of them was the one who kept selling her pictures to the tabloids, and he’d been dying to catch her in the act so he could call her out, perhaps shame her into fucking off. But so far, she was very subtle. 

A hand on his shoulder made him turn quickly, looking straight into bright blue eyes. “Hello, Dean,” Cas said, with that special soft smile that was mostly in his eyes. 

“Hey, there you are. I was starting to wonder.” Dean leaned in for a kiss, then asked, “Where’ve you been?”

Cas sat down in the chair opposite Dean. “There was quite a line at the post office, then I had to go home to get changed before I came here.”

“The post office?” Dean asked, confused.

“Yes. I…I mailed off the signed divorce papers today. It’s done,” Cas said, his whole body relaxing, relieved.

Pride for his boyfriend swelled in Dean. “That’s awesome,” he said with a grin. “That calls for a celebration.”

“I don’t think I’ve got time for a drink before my set. After, perhaps?”

Dean frowned. “You’re right, not long to go. Perhaps we can celebrate some other way.” He stood up, holding out a hand and grinning seductively at Cas. He pulled Cas to his feet and let him away from the table, leaving his beer behind, back into the dark corridor that led to the upstairs bar. 

“Dean, where are we—?” Cas began, but as they passed the staircase Dean shoved him against the wall and silenced him with a firm kiss. When he pulled back, Cas said a small, “oh,” as Dean went to work with a line of kisses along his jaw, and reached down to start unbuckling his belt. “Dean, I’m really not sure we have time for this…”

“Shh, I like a challenge,” Dean said, planting one more kiss on Cas’ lips before dropping to his knees and undoing his dark-wash jeans in earnest. 

Cas gasped as Dean pulled his half-hard cock unceremoniously from his briefs, and pumped it a few times. “Your hands are cold,” he hissed, making Dean chuckle.

“I’ll fix that,” Dean said, taking Cas’ entire length into his mouth and swallowing hard. Cas nearly convulsed, and Dean could feel him filling out in record time. He grabbed at Cas’ balls as he licked and sucked, loving the taste of Cas’ salty skin. He took Cas’ hard cock as far back into his throat as he dared, pushing it in and out until he nearly gagged with the force of it. 

He glanced up at Cas and felt his own pants start to get uncomfortably tight as he saw his boyfriend’s disheveled hair and wild look in his eyes, even in the dim corner of this corridor. He was breathing in harsh pants, obviously trying to hold in groans of pleasure. It was absolutely obscene, and Dean loved it.

He felt Cas tugging at the hair at the back of his head, and he let out a groan of his own, letting the vibrations in his throat add to Cas’ arousal. Cas grabbed Dean’s head and fucked back and forth for only a handful of times before he thrust hard and came down Dean’s throat, unable to stop himself letting out a wrecked cry. 

Once Dean had swallowed every drop, and licked his way back down to the softening tip, he tucked Cas back into his pants and zipped up his jeans. Cas helped him to his feet, and they shared a soft but passionate kiss for a few moments, before Cas pulled back, resting his forehead against Dean’s. 

“I need to go out on stage now. You’re going to be the end of me, you know.”

Dean smirked, placing a kiss at the corner of Cas’ mouth. “I know, sweetheart. Break a leg.” 

They walked back out into the lounge bar, Cas peeling off towards the piano, where a small audience was already waiting. They broke into scattered clapping as he approached, and he bowed awkwardly to them. 

Dean ordered another beer at the bar as Cas started to play. He turned to see if Sam and Jess had arrived yet, spotted them at a table at the far edge of the room, and made his way over there and greeted them, sitting at the extra seat at their table.

“I do not want to know where you two have just been,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “It’s bad enough at home.”

Dean just smirked knowingly at his brother until Sam leaned over and punched him in the arm, making his pint slosh around. “Hey, watch it!” he said, taking a quick drink.

They sat back and listened to Cas’ music for a few minutes, until Sam said, “Mom would have loved this.” 

Dean glanced over in surprise. They didn’t often talk about their mom, but Dean still missed her every day. His new life working in her charity in Croydon full-time reminded him of her constantly, but he hoped she would have been proud of him, on some level. She would have liked Cas and Claire, he was sure of that. The little cutie had certainly wormed her way into Dean's heart, over the limited time they'd spent together so far, and he was starting to be hopeful for a bright future. 

The piano music swirled around them, and Dean smiled, content.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this story! I'd love to hear your thoughts in a comment :) 
> 
> Find more of my stories [here on AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllenOfOz), or [on Tumblr](https://ellen-of-oz.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Additional notes:  
> In Homer’s Odyssey, the Asphodel Meadows is where ordinary souls were sent after they died. Not quite heaven (which is usually described in mythology as Elysium fields) and not Hades, the Asphodel Meadows are almost analogous to Purgatory. 
> 
> The Asphodel bar, as well as the Croydon Neighbourhood house and Morningside Avenue are all made-up places. Some locations are real, however, and I hope those who know London will be okay with me playing in their city. It’s been a while since I visited and details are hazy.
> 
> There are plenty of solo piano arrangements of "Kashmir" and "Rolling in the Deep". Just search YouTube to hear some talented individuals.


End file.
